Austrian Proverbs
by SocietyMember
Summary: AustriaXLibrarian!Reader. A strange man interrupts your reading...


**A/N: Let me check... Nope, don't own Hetalia. Darn.**

**Enjoy!**

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Books had always been your passion. Within their pages, you could find a window to just about anywhere you could ever wish to visit. You could meet an alien race on a different planet or meet a charming young man in New York. You could fight a werewolf in a world of fantasy or fight crime bosses in a world of espionage.

Your favorite books had always been about history. With them, you could watch a Roman chariot race, cross the Delaware River with George Washington, or storm the beaches of Normandy on D-Day.

It surprised no one when you got a job as a librarian at a small library.

~APH~

You liked your job. There weren't too many people that came in, and you spent your free time reading.

One day, however, your reading was interrupted by a man coming through the door.

He was dressed formally in a dark blue suit. His dark hair was combed back, save for one bit that stubbornly stuck up. His violet eyes were hidden behind his spectacles. All in all, he cut a rather attractive figure.

You greeted him with your customary speech. "Welcome to the library. Let me know if you need help finding anything."

"That is very kind of you. Thank you." He spoke with a foreign accent, one your brain identified as German. "I vill let you know if I think of anything. I am not looking for anything in particular, merely a way to pass the time."

You smiled. "You've come to the right place, then, Mr..."

"Edelstein. Roderick Edelstein. To whom am I speaking?"

"(f/n) (l/n)," you answered. "Head Librarian."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. (l/n). May I inquire as to what you are reading?"

You showed him the cover, which read The American Civil War: A War Between Brothers.

"You enjoy history?" he questioned, one eyebrow raised.

You nodded, smiling. "I always have. History is... It's not just a bunch of dates that have no real meaning. It has defined the world we live in. It has shaped our homes. It shapes our lives, and we don't even realize it! History is the story of us. If we actually bothered to read it, maybe we'd have a few less problems."

"'History is constantly teaching, but it does not find many pupils.'" He added. "The vorld is full of ignorant fools."

"You sound like you're quoting something," you commented.

He chuckled. "It is an Austrian proverb."

"Oh! Are you from Austria, then?"

He nodded. "Ja, I am. I am only visiting here for a short time vhile I meet vith some... associates of mine."

"Well, I certainly hope that you enjoy your stay here," you said.

"Thank you," he replied politely.

"What is it that you do in Austria?" you asked curiously.

"I vork for the government. However, in my spare time I enjoy playing and composing music."

You smiled. "That sounds nice. What instruments do you play?"

He smiled back. "I play a little bit of everything, but my favorite is the piano."

The two of you talked for hours, trading tidbits of knowledge and sharing about your lives.

Somehow, the subject of your nonexistant love life was raised.

"No one wants to go on a date with the bookish librarian."

"'A educated woman finds few suitors'," he quoted, sighing. "It is unfortunate but true. Men are dummkopfs."

"Dummkopfs?"

"Idiots," he clarified.

You laughed. "I have to agree with you there."

He stayed with you as you locked up the library and then offered to walk you home.

~APH~

When you reached your door, you turned to thank him.

"Thanks for listening. Most people just think I'm a stuffy old librarian when they hear me chatter on about things that happened hundreds of years ago," you mumbled, blushing.

He smiled that half smile of his that was becoming so familliar. "I do not think you are old or stuffy, frau. After all, 'Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.'"

As he leaned in and kissed you softly, you thought that you could very easily grow to like Austrian proverbs.

Very easily, indeed.


End file.
